He doesn't mean to whimper, wishes he was stronger, braver. But he wasn't as strong as Dean, never was. Sam struggled to his feet, every muscle knotting up and cramping in protest as he tried to shuffle the few feet back towards the lumpy motel bed.

"Dean.. don't go," he pleads. "Please."

When Dean was gone, that's when his life tended to spiral out of control. Dean kept him strong, kept him safe.